The Gallows
by Renzin
Summary: Chance encounters are rather important things. So are stupid brothers who drag you to a school you're not invited to. If the stench of light wizards isn't bad enough, that weird kid sleeping in the next bed takes the cake. Are humans supposed to be this...creepy? AU Diary snippets. Tom Riddle meets a odd pair of vampires. He is intrigued. OMCs, no current pairing.
1. Prologue

**The Gallows**

If one ever diverges off of the commercially shining road of Diagon Alley, they will find various attractions. Chancley Lane is a popular destination for families with their collection of homeware stores. Roddick Road houses some of the best examples of British Wizardry in cooking you will ever find. However if one ventures into the infamous Knockturn Alley, provided they travel deep enough into it's bowels, they will find a domed oddity of a building with oily black stone and enchanted lamps of green flame ominously floating around its perimeter.

Any casual observer will be able to read the glinting silver sign that hangs above the timber doors, thus naming the establishment as 'The Gallows'. Runes are carved into the building so deeply, at most angles they appear to simply have weathered the years poorly. There are no windows other than the arrow line slits in the stone work, and a balcony that runs across the third floor. A large tapestry, soaked in the perpetual rain, hangs alongside it. On a black backdrop, it displays a cracked, stained skull with elongated teeth; crushed up from the base of the skull and out of the very top is the clear visage of a broomstick; innocently hooked onto the serrated edges of the lower jaw was a thin silver wand that glowed ominously with the green lamps.

It is not a building that wards away every living soul that passes; oddly enough despite its ominous appear (as is common in this underworld), there is a seductive cloak that pauses many a creature to slow as they pass by, to linger by the great dragon head door knocker, wandering if entering is worth tempting fate.

Most will overcome temptation. Their greater instinct to stay away from the shadows will push them onwards, even those who consider the darkness of Knockturn Alley to be their home. Only a handful of people enter The Gallows every few months, and only with a strong purpose behind their backs.

One such visitor comes for two reasons, or rather, one of two brothers. The Gallows are Abigor and Daegen Gallow, brothers in both familial and bloodlusting means. A visitor may enter the shop and find themselves in a narrow corridor devout of anything but the barest of lighting and two tall doors. Silver signs will display 'A.G' on the right, and 'D.G' on the left. There is no indication to their purposes for the only customers that are welcome are those that enter knowing exactly which brother can assist them.

If our visitor decides to take the left door, then they are in dire need of a wand.

A thick cloak of incense will greet them before their eyes accustom themselves to the dim bluebell flames that sit in any available bottle. An ornately carved round table lies directly ahead, surrounded by thick layers of velvet drapes. If Daegen Gallow is expecting you, he will join you at this table to discuss your needs and conduct any measurement he requires. Many are quite startled by the appearance of this esteemed wandmaker. Inky black hair on the classic moonstone parlour owned by most other vampires; regal, sharp features with a meticulously shaven jaw; rings on the tips of pointed ears and a pair of scarlet eyes. Our visitor will likely find themselves feeling rather ungrounded around such a being that exudes such a dark and predatorial aura. But if they remain warily respectful and do not waste the time of a Gallow, they will be able to return to collect an exquisite wand like no other.

As expected of a dark race, Daegen has no qualms with using blood magic and old family rituals to determine _exactly_ what type of wand a customer requires, and has a fondness of several very illegal materials. Against an Ollivander wand, in sheer power there is little competition, however as with any wand they are only as strong as those who wield them. Be warned, Daegen has been known to turn away a customer he does not think worthy of his craft.

If our visitor has instead chosen the right door, they will find another brother with similar morals but a rather different disposition.

Abigor Gallow has a habit of letting a customer wander around his end of the shop in confusion, watching them twitter as they walk past hunting trophies, large barrels of live eels and a plethora of weapons and armoured mannequins on display. Often he will leave somewhat lethal traps and let several venomous pets out into the room to observe their reflexes; afterall just as Daegen will not sell wands to an incompetent wizard, Abigor will not be seen selling his coveted broomsticks to anyone unfit to use them. His brooms range from sports to war ready brooms, even specialised ones for extreme environments for exploration. Like his brother, his sources of materials are somewhat questionable. The decorations of Abigor's shop will reveal that he also is a blacksmith, proudly producing enchanted armours and deadly weapons that would terrify any opponent armed with a mere wand (as you can imagine, both brother bicker constantly on the superiority of their works in a duel).

When meeting the man himself, our visitor is likely to experience this with Abigor leaping out at them with a vicious roar, or perhaps he will simply appear in the doorway with a bottle of Odgen's finest and a rather cruel smirk. An onlooker will find both brothers to be obviously related by their faces and rather alarming heights and builds, though perhaps Abigor is the sturdier of the two. He has the same red eyes, in a more crazed fashion; they often appear unusually wet despite his lack of blinking, thus giving the effect that they may be bleeding. Sharp teeth can be seen in a rather terrifyingly stretched grin. While the same black shade as his brother's, Abigor is a sporter of long, wild hair that almost looks sharp and reaches the nape of his back. Several bones and rings have been pressed into both ears at odd angles. Unlike his brother who generally dons dark shirts and high collared cloaks, Abigor prefers distinctly tight breeches and tunics that really do not need to be so open. He rather thinks himself a seductor of the highest degree.

It is questionable in some cases whether those that enter The Gallows will ever exit. Generations of the family have dwelled in the darkest pit of London's wizarding world, keeping to themselves and rarely socialising outside of beast races such as their own. And yet, I wonder what could have been, if two brothers had left their kin to search for a more thrill seeking life, posing as human boys on a rather stupid bet. In this reality, they were caught by their furious father before they even got further than reaching Platform 9 and 3/4. The brothers grew to eventually become masters of their aforementioned crafts and to watch the future Wizarding wars with a detached amusement. They never experienced being in the same classes as a certain Dark Lord to be. But still, I wonder...


	2. Entry 1

**Entry 1,**

 **Hogwarts Express,**

 **Somewhere outside Sheffield:**

 _I find myself in a rather dangerous situation. Really, its that stupid Burke's fault; he always has this way with words that truly ensnares Abigor, and hence I have to get dragged into each mess to make sure we both get pulled out alive. It's always some ridiculous. I thought when he convinced Abigor to help him out with that idiotic vanishing cabinet (honestly, what is wrong with disaparating?), it would be the last of it when they both ended up splinched in the lake District. The worst however, must be whenever Burke decides he's bored and wants to bet on something._

 _I_ bet _you can't guess what he's gambling we can't do this time._

 _Apparently, now he's turned 11, Burke is going to attend Hogwarts. I originally was thrilled, I thought I wouldn't have to deal with the little brat for and entire school year (yes, I know we're the same age, hush). But oh no, poor little Edwin Burke cannot stand the idea of leaving home without his stupid little best friend, A K A my stupid twin. I don't know how they managed it, but the two of them purchased school supplies for the both of them, as well as a forged Hogwarts acceptance letter for Abigor._

 _To be honest with you, I would've stepped in sooner. What did I care if they were going to waste all their time and pocket money; it's not like they would've done anything interesting in their summer otherwise. However, perhaps I should've payed more attention when I came closer to the day Burke and Abigor would leave for King's Cross Station. If I had, perhaps I wouldn't have ended up frantically shouting at the two of them while they gleefully snuck in away via the floo network. Perhaps, I wouldn't have found myself despairing as I hurried to grab my wand and follow them (let it be noted that when I did, I found a prepacked bag of my clothes and a set of books on my bed; the little turds, they_ KNEW, _they_ purposely _decided to involve me)._

 _Honest to Sahmir, I swear that the plan was to grab them and bring them home before father returned that evening. Unfortunately, through a series of rather unfortunate and worrying events, I found myself dragged onto the train by the two brats and pushed into a carriage just as the train left the platform._

 _That was three hours ago._

 _I now find myself staring with despair out of the window, snarling at Burke and Abigor everytime they dare talk to me, though it only sets them off into a vile giggling fit. Honestly. You wouldn't know that I was their age, would you? I am sure it is quite obvious by now the caliber of maturity and intelligence of possess that they, surprise surprise, do not._

 _I am not hopeful for the future. Father is not the forgiving kind, and with no owl or any stop from here to Scotland, by the time he notices we are gone I am sure he will consider me an accomplice to this idiotic manoeuvre. I am doomed to never step foot outside the family shop until I am of age. Perhaps longer, depending on Father's mood._

 _Pray for me, Diary._

 _Yours,_

 _Daegen Gallow, son of Diabolos John Gallow._


	3. Entry 2

**Entry 2,**

 **1st September 1938,**

 **Boy's Dormitory,**

 **Hogwarts:**

 _My situation has not improved._

 _Burke and Abigor talked incessantly the entire journey, and I was too furious to attempt sleep. I was not able to block out the shuddering sounds of the tracks below us, nor the shrieking children that kept running past our compartment. Begrudgingly, I decided to flip through the textbooks that had been stuffed into my bags, though even at a glance I can see that Father has already taught us such basic theory and spellwork. I can not begin to fathom why Abigor would agree to join Burke in a school with such annoying and incompetent humans._

 _By the time the train finally stopped, the sun had already gone down. Getting off the train was as traumatising as getting on; packs of blood bags running around like hairless apes with giant luggage that kept hitting my ankles. At the very least, we were escorted by a fellow non human - Hagrid the half giant, if I remember correctly (which naturally I have). The boats were mildly enjoyable, but only because I like the sea. And only mildly._

 _When we finally entered the damn castle, some Professor with a fading ginger beard and hideous robes greeted us then made us wait outside in the freezing cold entrance hall. Abigor and Burke had spent the entire boat ride gossiping about houses and whatnot. As if that matters. From the sounds of it, whatever sorting device would likely recognise my brother and I as not belonging here, then we would be pointed to the nearest fire place to_ go home!

 _But when has my life ever been so easy? As was my luck, I had to wait while a dozen kids tested out a dusty, poorly sown pile of leather and my feet hurt. Burke got put in the green one. Abigor cheered embarrassingly loudly. However I had the shock of my life when_ my _name was called!_

 _How was that possible? Were there detection and identity wards that simply updated the list of names with whomever entered the castle? I was prepared to stand exactly where I was but Abigor had to make a huge fuss and push me forward. Well, I had to save face, you see. Ended up with Burke in the green house as well._ Joy.

 _I ended up sitting with the twat for the purpose to block off the other brats at the table; Abigor joined shortly on my otherside and to my distaste attracted all the attention to the three of us as he prattled on the entire feast. At the very least, the food was acceptable. One firstie looked like he really needed it, all skin and bones, and almost as pale as myself and Abigor. Must be a muggleborn._

 _When we were finally permitted to leave the hall, I tried to drag Abigor in the direction of the way back to the boats, but some swotty 'Prefect' shepherded us back into formation. I was stuck in the herd all the way down into the bowls of the admittedly impressive castle until we finally reached the den of snakes. At the very least, I approve of the decor. Can you imagine having to live in the yellow house's common room?_

 _And so here I find myself, Diary. At the very least I have claimed the bed by the window. No point unpacking, Father will likely storm the place in the morning, though Abigor seems to think we are untouchable just because a green tie has been magicked around our neck in a perfect Winsor._

 _I don't want to be here. The sheer smell of so many humans is revolting. Burke and my brother thankfully exist to be a buffer to the other boys, but now they've gone over to loudly chat and gossip. Abigor tried to drag me into it, but with a good snarl he let it go. One of the other human boys gave out a good squeak at the very least. Funnily enough, they seemed to be a little scared of a vampire fledgling like myself. There is one other boy who sits alone his bed, opposite me. It's the ill looking fellow; keeps reverentially flipping through his textbooks and warily eying the other boys. Sickie (as I shall dub thee) also has a habit of staring at me with something rather similar to the way he looks at his books. I suppose the novelty of superior lifeforms and what muggles assume is myth is quite fascinating._

 _Yours,_

 _Daegen Gallow, son of Diabolos John Gallow._


	4. Entry 3

**Entry 3,**

 **2nd September 1938,**

 **Headmaster Dippet's Study,**

 **Hogwarts:**

 _Well, that didn't take long._

 _To be brief, Abigor and I remained undetected for a whole meal before a prefect came to inform us that the Headmaster had summoned us. Despite Abigor's rather dramatic gasp of surprise, as is likely obvious Father was in the Headmaster's office with the latter man himself. As expected, Father looked rather murderous. Dippet understandably looked rather nervous to be sitting with a looming fully fledged vampire. Even to others of our kind, Father is terribly intimidating. He's built like a mountain, with a sharp beard and hair like Abigor's, but professionally tied back. Our kind has slight variation on tooth shape and eye colour (particularly with the sclera turning navy with age). Father's eyes are essentially two drops of red on a murky black sea, and his teeth are fully serrated and at the moment, bared at us._

 _Abigor and I are immediately bowing deeply in the hope that manners will save us._

 _"Enough grovelling you little brats." Father snarls._

 _We hastily straighten with our heads bowed. There is a pause, so I take the moment to try and explain my innocence in the entire fiasco. Surely, Father will listen to reason?_

 _He does not. A sharp rap to the head shuts me and pushes me into a chair in front of Dippet's desk in one fell swoop. Abigor quickly follows._

 _Dippet purses his lips and steeples his fingers together. "Well, boys. You seem to have had quite an adventure. Sneaking about, forging letters, squatting even. Is there anything you two would like to add?"_

 _Abigor, the fool that he is, takes the bait. "We also stole sweets off the trolley on the train." Father slaps him again while I cradle my head in my hands._

 _At the very least, I did get my side of the story out, and Father seemed to minutely sympathise as he has watched me deal with Abigor and Burke's idiocy for years now. However after letting us stew for a while, He snapped, "Well, it hardly matters now."_

 _Abigor and I blinked. Dippet continued for Father, saying "Quite right. You're names have been on the Hogwarts registary since your births even if your father has chosen to home school you. Mr Gallow has informed me that he believes it is due justice if you will be allowed to stay this year."_

 _I pale quickly and start to stutter. "B-but Father, what about our studies?! You promised to teach me Runes next week!"_

 _A horribly cruel smirk adorned Father's face. "Well in Hogwarts you can learn Runes in your 3rd year. Keep your brother out of trouble, Daegen. Oh and Abigor? I'm snapping your broom when I get home." Ignoring the agony in Abigor's protests, Father promptly left._

 _I'm now sitting writing this to you, Diary, while Dippet is dragging my brother around the office on a tour (declined such suspicious generosity). At the very least, Dippet seems weirdly fond of me, probably because I've come off in this situation as the resigned elder brother (by 6 minutes) who tries to keep his dimwitted sibling out of trouble. He also seems to find Abigor hilarious ("Oh, what a shame you weren't sorted into my house, dear boy. Gryffindoor would have loved you.") so I question how much I value him opinion. At the very least, Abigor has been given a detention for the entire scheme. I have a feeling Dippet will just spend an hour chatting._

 _I, at the very least, now plan on finding my bloody schedule and learning something. Surely, there must be some Rune books in the library?_

 _Yours,_

 _Daegen the Resigned, son of Diabolos John Gallow._


	5. Entry 4

**Entry 4,**

 **2nd September 1938,**

 **Library,**

 **Hogwarts:**

 _As you can expect, classes were an odious affair._

 _It's not that I don't enjoy learning - I'd say I'm certainly smarter than my new classmates, thank you very much. Our family has a good collection of books, many of which are lone copies, and I honestly find little pleasure outside our library. And I can appreciate that Hogwarts houses its own impressive library and most of the professors are upstanding members of their fields. While Father studied with our own kind, my mother went to Hogwarts and she was by no means lesser for it._ _I find myself questioning how she survived have to share a room with annoying children though. Perhaps the girl's dorms are better?_

 _After returning from Dippet's office, we were bombarded by the other Slytherin boys in Charms class. Abigor eagerly fed them the lie that Dippet was simply saying hello to the children of an old student, and relished the envy in the boys. Our Professor was another non human like us, a goblin descendant with whispy brown hair. He seemed surprised to see us not hiding ourselves. He gave a wide smile after he got over his shock, and didn't seem to mind when I blandly stared back. At the very least, he proved to be an entertaining and efficient teacher._

 _News of the firstie vampires of Slytherin had already spread on our first day of class; in every hall, people were staring and gawking. I even heard an obviously uneducated muggleborn ask why we weren't burning in the sunlight (honestly). Abigor soaked it all up, widely smirking at everyone we passed. I trailed next to him while he prattled away and I snapped every now and then (if he thought I was going to forgive him_ that _easily...). Some blond kid in our house hurried to my brother's other side and introduced himself - Allen? Artie? Who knows, Malfoy something - while the other Slytherins followed, seemingly happy to bet that we knew where our next class was. Essentially, we were following a group of first years in the red house. Sickie seemed to sullenly follow at the back of our group, but as we turned every corner my peripheral caught his eyes._

 _Potions turned out to be as fascinating as it was with Father, minus the very real threats of making me drink my potions if they turned the wrong colour. While the Professor was an insufferable suck up ("Oh you must be the Gallow boys! I remember your mother, brilliant young witch she was!"), I couldn't blame him. Social standing seemed to be extremely important in our house, so the extra attention went a long way. With the way Abigor was charming the other boys in our house, I was getting the impression that I could leave all the PR to him while I lived in the library for the next year._

 _The rest of our classes continued in much the same fashion. History of Magic was rather amusingly a favoured time to sleep, Herbology was messy and Defense Against The Dark Arts was entertaining for the fact that our Professor seemed to have a stifling fear of vampires. My brother and I exchanged a look, and I just knew we were going to enjoy this_ extensively.

 _Yours,_

 _Daegen the Mildly Uncomfortable, son of Diabolos John Gallow._


End file.
